


call me home (for lysander’s birthday 2020)

by marriotts



Category: WHIMS/Look At All There Is Around You
Genre: British Humor, Friends to Lovers, Homesickness, Idiots in Love, London, Lysander is a bastard, M/M, No communication skills, Nosebleeds, brief mentions of matteo, fieo is homesick, gaymers, head empty no thoughts, lysander is having a good time, mabelle and jac come up, mentions of françios and quis, pinning, they don’t talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:26:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25524355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marriotts/pseuds/marriotts
Summary: fieo a quiet twenty-year-old, is faced with the constant homesickness of being away from his home town in northern england becomes torn between two worlds--one with his best friend or one back at home. his best friend being charismatic, loveable, lysander, who he just happens to be in love with. so, in order to make leaving easier, fieo retracts from lysander only to find it more painful than ever.
Relationships: Fieo Sullivan/Lysander Frossard





	call me home (for lysander’s birthday 2020)

**Author's Note:**

> this was written in dedication to lysander’s birthday (may 4), i really love it. 
> 
> fieo and lysander are OCs i’ve been writing for a few years now, they’re very dear to me and i hope people enjoy their stories (i have many more)!

we're crowded around the living room in matteo's apartment, lysander sits in the middle of the couch, feet on the coffee table. i sit next to him, knees to chest, esper is there on an armchair, strewn across it and scrolling through instagram.

matteo sits on the floor, listening to lysander intently as he tells a story. the tv flickers playing highlights of some football match, a few of matteo and lysander's friends crowd around the armchairs, couches and floor watching the tv.

"so this girl right, she takes me to her house and things are getting frisky," lysander leans forward using his hands to emphasise.

"ooooh," matteo teases, raising an eyebrow.

"yeah, yeah," lysander grins, "so we're getting a bit intimate—no sex before marriage, of course— and there's this ungodly sound."

i laugh, lysander's eyes are wide and he looks spooked.

"i stop and am like: 'the fuck is that bro' and she just explains it's her cat. so i turn on the light and there's this ragged looking mangy cat in the doorway."

"what the fuck was wrong with it?" matteo laughs.

"it was really old, like, seventeen years old and going deaf so it would meow in the dark randomly," he laughs, "and i try to stay serious while we're doing the deed but the damn thing kept meowing."

matteo makes a dumb joke, i sit back, smiling through the pain as if a hole wasn't just ripped through my heart.

"deadass it put me off so much, the thing kept yowling and she thought nothing of it."

i though about the boys i had bought home, how close i had come to calling one lysander just because he had blond hair. it made my stomach burn hot and cheeks flushed. 

"what about you, fieo? got any chicks recently?" esper asks, it's an innocent enough question, he looks up from his phone for a second then goes back to what he was doing, lysander leans forward slightly, watching me. i swear i can feel him looking at my lips. 

my insides run hot and i feel numb, they must all know that i take boys home occasionally. they must all know, how could lysander of all people not know? he was supposed to be my best friend and yet he has never truly known me. 

i stare at everyone blankly, the silence is thick, the only people talking are mumbling and sitting across the room with xbox controllers in their hands. 

lysander bumps his head into mine, it reminds me of dogs. my forehead presses against his temple for a second then he laughs and makes a joke, changing the conversation's subject indefinitely. 

lysander and i leave together, like usual--he lives in the same apartment building as me—he's quieter than usual, although he's always quieter around me, something about being comfortable in the silence, he's a complete sap. 

i try to brave the hard outer shell because he needs it right now, he's slipping away, making newer, more interesting friends, meeting prettier, warmer girls, finding better people. 

the more detached i become the easier it will be for him to recover from it all, then hopefully, someday i will just be a distantly happy memory—a boy with nothing better to do then play piano and read.

cade is calling me again and this time i'm sure i won't return to london. i can manage without a job, mal can visit me on weekends—she does already visit françios on weekends—i haven't gone back in fear that if i even set foot in town that i will not be able to bring myself to leave. 

i've been brave, braver than i thought i was but the freedom, the crisp mornings, the smell of books, the ruffle of feathers call me from my apartment building. lysander and i stare at each other as we stand in the lift, he's leaning against the railing, face completely emotionless, watching me. we don't say a word. my mind races for something to grab onto.

i've tried to tell him before, how suffocating london is, the apartment building walls too white, the sky too dull, the sun to hazy. i hope he knows that i tried, i tried so hard to make it work, for him, for me, for 'getting out of my comfort zone' but cade calls me and i know i need to return. 

"what're you thinking about, fi?" lysander says quietly we're stopped on his apartment's floor, he doesn't show any indication of moving. 

i tell him the truth because i think he knows already, "i'm thinking about cade."

he nods, it's not an angry, resentful nod but a mournful, painful nod. he swallows, puts a hand on my shoulder and leaves, he watches me as the door closes.

he must have told mal what happens because for the next few days she's extra eager to get me out and about. lysander comes over every other night, he never texts to warn me, never calls, just shows up at the doorstep and sits next to me, we don't talk much because we both know this time i'm not returning to him. 

———————————

he's dragged me to a party, how the fuck did he drag me to a party again? he would point out i'm here at my own free will, he texted me asking if i wanted to come and regrettably i agreed. he hasn't shown up yet and the hole in my stomach doubles in size every minute, it's currently the size of my fist. maybe he's forgotten he promised to come, maybe he purposely left me. 

i gravitate to the first person i recognise, a short girl with badly dyed purple hair and aquamarine eyes. 

"fieo," she smiles, she looks around the room for someone, "waiting for frossard?" 

i nod, the room is poorly lit, smells of weed and hazy from cigarette smoke. it's enough to intoxicate me. 

"how're you going, it's been a while, dude," she smiles, she's leaning into me, nudging her foot against mine. 

"i've been good, well i've been okay." 

"eh? what's been happening with you?" there's something about her that makes me trust her more than anything, it makes me want to cry.

"i miss cade, i'm gonna leave london, for good," she nods, as if she already guessed it, i continue, "i feel lysander slipping away. i know he's meeting new people—god they're cool—he deserves it more than anything, i'm just trying to make things easier for him, y'know?" 

she nods, chewing her lower lip, "my girlfriend knows him, y'know?" she scans the room and then puts her arm out calling for her girlfriend. 

her girlfriend, a short boxy girl with curly black hair comes and sits in her lap, "jac, you know lysander frossard, don't you?" she asks. 

her name has slipped my mind until now, mabelle dates jac (short for jacqueline).

"yeah, i also know mal pretty well," jac grins, "god, she is an amazing person, you are so lucky, dude." 

"i didn't know you knew her." 

"she knows everyone, she's a total badass, unforgettable. anyway, what's your connection to frossard?" 

"he's my best mate, we grew up in the same village, known him since i was young." 

"no way are you fieo sullivan, you look so different in photos, i can't believe we've never met!" she grins, i watch as mabelle's hand is pressed against her ribcage, "both that boy and your sister cannot stop talking about you." 

surprised, i don't know what to say, "you didn't know? damn, that kid is so in love dude, i thought you guys were like a thing." 

i blush, "no, we're not a thing, just mates."

"and you only just wanna be mates?" mabelle asks, eyebrows raised. 

i shrug and answer truthfully, "i dunno." 

mabelle nods, "you care about him but if you need to go home than do it, i'm sure he will follow." 

i open my mouth to say something, mabelle reaches out her hand and grips my shoulder, "he loves you."

the whole interaction leaves me dizzy as a new song plays and both of them stand up to dance to it. i sit there confused for a few minutes before a familiar voice enters the room.

the door swings open, "hey dude, sorry i'm late got—" the rest of the conversation is inaudible but i still know that it's lysander. the apartment isn't too crowded but it's enough that it's an effort to get through so i stay sitting on the black fold out chair. lysander finds me quickly, hooks an arm around my neck and tells me it feels like it's been ages since he saw me, ignoring the fact he was sat on my couch last night. 

"didn't get too lonely without me?" he asks, speaking loudly over the music.

"kinda but then i ran into mabelle and jac," i explain, i can't stop smiling despite the fact nothing is happening that is smile worthy, i explain to myself that it's just the second hand high off weed.

he grins, it's warm, almost intoxicating, "jac's awesome, i used to skate with her when i first got here." 

"yeah, both of them are super nice, i feel like i could tell mabelle anything." 

"that you can, dude, she's like an owl—knows what to do in every situation," he doesn't push it any more than that, doesn't question, doesn't poke, i appreciate it more than ever. 

he hands my his cup and i drip out of it, wincing at the taste—its unbearably sour—i push it into his hand and he drinks out of it again, watching me through his eyelashes. 

every day this week he's looked at me with concern, eyebrows furrowed, eyes confused, lips pursed but today he's different, clearer. he leans into me to whisper in my ear about how he heard so-and-so had broken up so don't mention it. 

i grin at him, it's wide and lopsided but his cheeks flush. it's weird, it's like we're in our own world and not in a cramped london flat listening to shitty trap music. he's soft tonight, not like he usually is but clearer, more honest. 

things are hazy, lines blur together, i lean my head on his shoulder his arm is at stroking the back of my head gently, he's humming a song i don't recognise, i feel it reverberate against my chest. 

something hot and sticky trails down my face, and fuck, my nose is bleeding. 

"shit, fi, you're bleeding," lysander yelps, gripping my wrist. my other hand cups my nose, lysander is yelling to someone who's telling him there's toilet paper in the bathroom. 

lysander is pulling me into the bathroom, closing the door with his foot and sitting me in the bathtub. he grabs a toilet roll and gives it to me before sitting next to me. his knees are against my thighs, my head feels like it's going to explode. 

i take my hands away from my nose to find them covered in dark coloured blood. lysander puts hand on my shoulder and with one hand i clutch a bunch of toilet paper to my nose, the other is left outstretched and covered in blood. lysander slowly wipes the blood off my hand then moves to my chest, his head is close to mine, eyes focused on cleaning me up. 

"just got to wait this out," i mumble, it comes out muffled behind the paper. lysander just hums a response and moves closer to me, his head against my chest, legs hung over the bathtub rim. i only shift to exchange the blood soaked tissue for a new handful.

"you're leaving me, aren't you, fieo?" lysander asks quietly, he doesn't look at me and instead focuses on the tiled floor. 

i look at him for a second, "i'm not leaving you, just leaving london." 

"fi, buddy, i'm the reason you came here," he's almost snappy, maybe even angry. 

"i just—i don't feel myself, i miss cade, i miss françios, i miss my home," i'm almost distraught, almost in tears, it's been so long since i've cried. 

lysander sucks in a sharp breath, "fieo, i think you're depressed." 

i don't say anything, he continues, "well not depressed, i just think you need something more, fi, you're not doing well and i don't think it's just home sickness."

i'm silent, still. 

"please, fieo, just talk to me," he pleads, i don't trust what will come out of my mouth. 

his eyebrows are furrowed and eyes are dark, i look at his lips, soft, pink, he smells of cinnamon and smoke, he's wearing a sweater that i think is mine and those boots he painted himself. 

i search for what to say but come up empty handed, "lysander—" i gulp in air, "i think i'm in love with you or some shit." 

he sits up straight, swinging his legs so he's facing me, i can't tell what he's feeling right now but i feel pinned, afraid of what he's going to say. 

he slowly reaches out and touches my face, a thumb rubbing against my cheek. i move my hand way from my face, the blood has stopped coming from my nose anyway. a hand clasps around his wrist, but not to pry it away, just for reassurance. 

i'm staring at him wide eyed as he stares at me, i can't tell what's going on anymore, the world is spinning and the building is shaking underneath us. he runs a hand over my lips, a smile appearing. i lean into him, closer than ever before.

i breath out quickly and whisper his name. 

he kisses me like i'm oxygen and all i can think to do is wrap my arms around his neck as he pushes me into the porcelain, i shiver against the cool surface as my spine touches it. 

lysander pulls away, "you taste like blood." 

i apologise as if that sentence alone was not the most erotic thing i've ever heard. 

he laughs breathily and kisses me again. i don't leave, on sheer principle that i hadn't waited five years for this all to happen just to be forgotten.


End file.
